Beyond Our Control
by strawberryjill
Summary: Time is passing, and Speed finds himself fearing the unknown. But is it the future he fears, or a return of the past?
1. Default Chapter

Greetings everyone out there who actually takes the time to read my stories! I missed y'all, but as I told GoldAngel, I was lost in the barren landscape of textbook land, so I couldn't write or read anything that wasn't completely cut and dry. But, I'm back! And speaking of GoldAngel...you'd better keep updating, punk! Your new one is going to be awesome, I just know it. And where is Oriana? Speedy has got some explaining to do in "Girl Team"!  
  
So, this is my second SR fanfic (once again, thank you to all my reviewers who read "Unmasked"...I love you!). This one is going to involve a lot more action than my last story, and I'm bringing back to life some characters from good ol' Speedy's past. And here you thought they were dead...ha! Poor Speedy's got some serious problems in this one...  
  
This is the prologue, and it basically involves some background information that is going to be important later on. Please, read and review! (I got a new e-mail address by the way: jvalen1@towson.edu).  
  
Disclaimer: Nope. Don't own them. But I really wish I did...especially Racer X...*sigh*...am I the only person who thinks he is the sexiest anime character ever?  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
"Favorite cartoon growing up..." Sparky yelled. As soon as the echo in the cave died down, everyone else sounded a chorus that was a combination of groans and laughs.  
  
It was the new Saturday night ritual that they had, ever since the weather had broken and it was possible to be outside without freezing to death as soon as the sun went down. The big three, as they were sometimes called, Sparky, Trixie, and Speed were there, along with Ricky Finch, Paul Yiu, Walter Cook, and George McIntee, plus all of their girlfriends, and Janine Trotter. Ricky, Paul, Walter, and Janine were all racers that Speed often competed against yet still became friendly with him. George was a mechanic, and a close friend of Sparky's.  
  
"Who created this game anyway?" Speed asked with a laugh.  
  
"Oh come on, I happen to think it's rather interesting." Trixie said with a smile. "I love hearing about all the stupid little stuff that no one would ever tell anyone else unless they were smashed."  
  
"Hey, I'm not smashed! I'm perfectly mentally capapable." Paul interrupted. He failed to notice his addition of an extra syllable, as well as the fact that every word he said was slurred, and had a look of utter confusion on his face when he heard everyone else laughing at him.  
  
"Riiiight. Just keep telling yourself that, sweetie." Heather, his girlfriend replied.  
  
"Okay, okay...getting back to the subject at hand...before I was so rudely interrupted..." Sparky shot a look at Speed, who just shrugged comically. "Favorite cartoon. What was it for everyone?"  
  
"That's easy for me." Walter said rather loudly. Sparky egged him on, nodding in anticipation. "I was a Captain Planet guy. I always wanted to be one of those kick-ass twenty-somethings, with their rings and such. What were they called again? Planeteers or something?"  
  
"Yes, although I always found that show rather moronic. In the real world, pollution doesn't come from one or two guys who sit around fires creating evil schemes; it comes from corporations who aren't so obviously evil." Trixie said.  
  
"Plus, any show with a character named Hoggish Greedly just can't be good for your intelligence." Speed added. Trixie giggled.  
"Alright, smart-ass, how about you?" Walter questioned Speed. "What show did you watch religiously on Saturday mornings?"  
  
Speed wasn't as open with his deep, dark secrets as Walter was. He nonchalantly took a drink from his beer and said with little expression "AutoWorld."  
  
"Bull shit." Everyone replied in unison. Speed wasn't expecting that, and he began to violently cough as he choked on his drink, drawing more laughter from everyone else. "You're lying through those fake front teeth of yours, Racer." Sparky said.  
  
"And you never were a good liar, Speed." Trixie said to him.  
  
"Okay, I've only got one fake tooth and it isn't even a front one."  
" You're avoiding the question, Speedy. C'mon, we won't make fun of you." Janine said with an I'm-innocent-of-any-desire-to-make-fun-of-my-friend tone to her voice...which Speed saw right through.  
  
"Alright, alright...if he's going to be like this I'll go next." Trixie said. "Captain Planet was actually one of my favorites too, moronic as it was, and Wheeler was actually my first crush, but..."  
  
"Wasn't Wheeler the jerk from New York?" Sparky asked.  
  
"I can't believe you're admitting to having a crush on a two-dimensional character." George added.  
  
"Oh Wheeler was hot! I loved that red-hair thing...but anyway, my favorite had to be the Smurfs."  
  
"The Smurfs?" Speed said incredulously. "You liked the Smurfs?"  
  
"Yes, what's the matter with that? I was only six after all." Trixie said defensively.  
  
Speed lifted his hands in surrender, but still looked at her with a smirk.  
  
And everyone else took their turn, making the entire stretch of beach echo with a combination of titles like "He-Man", "Inspector Gadget", and "Scooby Doo" with hoots of laughter. Alas, it was Speed's turn once more, and he knew that he would never hear the end of the teasing as soon as he uttered the phrase "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles".  
  
* * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The engine hummed quietly as Trixie drove back in to the city in silence. Speed, who was in no condition to drive, sat in the passenger's seat of the Mach Five with his head back, as if he were sleeping. In fact, Trixie believed that he was sleeping, but in reality he was wide awake, and feeling surprisingly sober.  
  
Despite the carefree presence that he had exuded with his friends earlier, Speed had actually been quite worried for some time. He hadn't even wanted to go out, but somehow Trixie had talked him in to it, and he went, knowing it was good for him. But his mind had been somewhere else recently...he thought about his own age, his experiences, his childhood, his family. And he couldn't help but feel that there was something coming...something that he wouldn't know anything about until it had arrived. But by then, it would be too late to do anything about it.  
  
Speed's twenty-first birthday loomed over him, only two weeks away. While he knew that in the practical sense twenty-one wasn't old at all, and he would continue to have the ability to race for at least another ten or fifteen years, he couldn't help but notice how every day new racers turned up at the track. He looked at the racers who were currently eighteen, the same age he had been when he started his career, and they just looked so young to him, despite the mere three year age difference. And he also thought a lot about Rex. Rex's birthday had been only three days after his own, and this year, Rex would be twenty-nine. Somewhere out in the world, his older brother was turning twenty-nine. And Speed hadn't seen him for eleven years.  
  
He turned his head slightly, and looked over at Trixie, who didn't initially notice his movement. He worried about her too, and not in the sense of her being physically in danger, but about losing her. Trixie was no longer a teenager either, having turned twenty about a month ago, and she was really busy these days. She had missed the last two races that Speed had been in, due to school conflicts. And he had overheard more than one conversation where Janine asked her what she was planning to do once she got out of college. Trixie didn't have a clear answer yet, but Speed knew that graduate schools were practically falling over themselves to get her to attend.  
  
His ruminations abruptly ended though when she glanced over at him and noticed that he was awake. "Hey. I thought you were sleeping. I didn't wake you, did I?"  
  
"No. I wasn't sleeping actually." Speed sighed and turned his head back to rest against the seat cushion. He noticed that it was an incredibly clear night, and was warm and breezy. It was going to be a really hot summer, if it was this warm so early in the season.  
  
Trixie's eyebrows furrowed as she kept glancing at Speed, alternating her gaze between the road and him. It was clear that he was worried about something.  
  
"What's wrong? Do you feel sick or something? I tried to tell you that you can't hold alcohol, Racer." She joked.  
  
Speed smirked a little and closed his eyes. "That's probably part of it. I never did listen to you as often as I should have."  
  
Trixie smiled, but she was still concerned. After all, Speed had only said that the inebriation was only "part" of it. There was something else going on as well.  
  
"Tell me," her voice noticeably gentler. "Tell me what's on your mind."  
  
But Speed wasn't ready to talk about this just yet. He still hadn't sorted out in his mind what exactly it was that made him so concerned and preoccupied, so he wasn't ready to talk about it with anyone. He knew that if he tried to, he would just sound like a bumbling idiot.  
  
"I can't right now. I don't have it quite figured out yet." He opened his eyes again, and felt an immediate surge of guilt at the sight of Trixie's face, which was twisted in to a look that exuded both confusion and a little bit of hurt. She was staring at nothing, only half-watching the road that stretched in front of them. He reached his hand over and touched her face gently, and said, "But don't worry, Trix; it has nothing to do with you, I promise."  
  
"Good. I was beginning to expect the old we-need-to-talk speech. If you're going to break up with me, can you wait until after my Anatomy final? Or until after the race in the USA? If I have any say in this, that would be my preference." Trixie joked.  
  
Speed smiled. Trixie always had a way of lightening the mood, even though the very idea of breaking up with her was horrifying to Speed. That was all he needed right now; to be alone, without her.  
  
"I'll try to wait until June. No promises though." He joked back.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Four men sat around a table, each one deeply involved in studying print- outs. The room they were in wasn't really a room at all; it was an enormous warehouse that clearly had at one point been used for automotive purposes. The building was old, and the electricity had long been turned off, as no one ever came here anymore. The only illumination was provided by a few candles that sat on the table top, each one short and covered with drips of wax that had melted and fallen down the sides. There were shadows everywhere, and the corners of the room barely received any light at all.  
  
None of the men were particularly threatening or even interesting in appearance. They were all in their mid-forties, with one who was considerably older, maybe around sixty. To anyone who might have passed them on the street, they would have appeared average, perhaps even docile. But the lack of decent lighting of the room was, ironically, the most effective way of showing who they really were. As shadows covered their faces, shadows also covered their hearts.  
  
The print-outs consisted of both text and photography. A closer look at each one revealed how they were all related to the same subject: Speed Racer. There were pictures of him from every angle, along with pictures of his family, friends, the enemies he had encountered over the years, and even one of Racer X. The textual sections had more information on Speed than he was probably even aware of; there were sections dedicated to his birthdate and location of birth, his height, his weight, his education, and his medical records. In addition to these things, there were also textual sections with the same included information, except they were dedicated to Sparky, or Trixie, or Pops.  
  
The older man picked up one photograph and held it in front of his eyes. It was nothing but a close-up of Speed's face, and it had been taken when Speed was nineteen. But he didn't even need to look at a photo of Speed; he could remember everything about him, from his coal black hair and bright blue eyes to the less tangible aspects of him, like his confident, yet somewhat pugilistic, persona. It had only taken a brief meeting with him, nearly three years ago, and yet that face had been burned in to his memory.  
  
"Not a bad-lookin' kid, is he?" one of the other men asked with a crooked smile. "Twenty years old, according to the info we have, going to be twenty one in two weeks. He was eighteen when we first met him."  
  
The older man looked up from the photograph to look at his comrade, but said nothing, and kept his face expressionless.  
  
"According to our sources, he's going to be in the USA next month, for an automotive race. Apparently he's a big shot, and has been winning loads of races ever since he began his career three years ago."  
  
There was still no response from the older man; he simply placed the photograph of Speed back on the table, folded his hands in front of him, and stared off in to the darkness.  
  
The other three men all exchanged a look with one another; their boss was beginning to make them a little nervous. Normally, he was an expressive man, with a fiery temper and a constant stream of orders for them. But now, he was uncharacteristically quiet, with a vacant look on his face.  
  
"So, boss, what's the plan?" one of them asked hesitantly.  
  
The older man looked up at him, and simply said, "Prepare our USA office for our arrival. We're leaving tomorrow night."  
  
And with that, he stood up, pulled his coat on, and began to walk towards the door. In the background, he could hear the other three men talking and smirking among themselves, as they collected the papers off of the table. The candles were snuffed out, and the other men followed their leader out of the lone door that the warehouse had. But before they all got in to their cars to drive away, one of them had a final question for his leader.  
  
"Hey boss, you going to tell us why this kid is so important? I mean, I know you had a run in with him a few years ago, and he did some pretty significant damage to us, but it isn't like he completely shut us down. He probably doesn't even remember you."  
  
For the first time that evening, the older man's face twisted in disgust. The man who had spoken immediately recognized that his questioning one of the most powerful leaders in the world was not a good idea, and he stammered a few words of apology, which were silenced as the older man began to walk towards him. He instinctively began to cower down, fearing for his life, but the older man didn't appear to want to hurt him.  
  
All he said was, "He'll remember me. I'll make him remember. And the answer to your question will be apparent soon."  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Dun dun dun! Doncha' just loooooove cliff-hangers? ;)  
  
Hmm, fairly long for a prologue...sorry. But sometimes, a girl just has to provide a little background info. I promise this will get a lot more interesting soon. Read and review, please please please!  
  
Jill out. 


	2. Fears Revealed

Chapter One is upon us! Well, actually, upon you…I wrote it, after all. Anyway, this is where the real meat of the story kicks in. This is really fun to write; I had forgotten how much I loved action. It's a nice change from the humdrum of college life.  
  
Please read, and let me know what you think! And to all you authors out there, keep posting your new stories and/or update your old ones.   
  
Disclaimer: Eh, you people know the drill. If I owned Speed Racer, I definitely would not be in school; I'd be rich, and I'd have Racer X as my own personal masseuse. ;)  
  
***********  
  
A crash of thunder echoed through the city, and Speed woke up with a start. He anxiously looked around the room, barely able to see anything through the darkness, but relaxed a little as he could make out the outlines of his father, Sparky, Spritle, Chim Chim, and Trixie. They were all sleeping soundly, clearly undisturbed by the thunderstorm that was taking place.  
  
Speed slowly put a hand on his head, groaned, then fell back down on to his back. This would be the third night in a row that he hadn't slept well; each night had been plagued by nightmares and nameless, unidentified fears. He had no idea what was going on inside of his head, or what exactly it was that he was so paranoid about. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before; he had actually lived the previous years of his life according to the idea of living in the moment, and not thinking about the future. And sure, that maxim had gotten him in to trouble a few times (well, okay, more than a few), but then again, he was better at handling surprising situations that he was at keeping himself relaxed in times of great anxiety and uncertainty.  
  
The six of them were all in Houston, a city famous for its thunderstorms, for a race. It was still early in the season, as there had only been three races prior to this one, all of which Speed had won. The first two went well, but during the third one the feelings of anxiety had begun, and Speed had not focused enough. So, consequently, he had lost to Racer X. Racer X had actually joked with him about it, saying that Speed was finally performing public service to the geriatrics of society (even though everyone knew that Racer X couldn't have been over thirty), but Speed had not found that particularly funny. And ever since, whenever he saw Racer X, he couldn't help but notice that the masked man had looked pretty worried about him.  
  
Everyone was beginning to notice the change in Speed. Trixie no longer joked about it; she kept trying to get him to talk to her, but he couldn't. He knew that he was hurting her feelings, and he felt awful for it, but he still had no idea what he was so afraid of. Sparky and Pops were still trying to make him laugh and bring him back to his old self, but he never responded to their attempts. And poor Spritle was the most confused of all; his big brother, whom he had depended on for support and love for so long, was suddenly cold and distant. With adults at least, they can sort of understand how other adults prefer to keep to themselves and think about their problems, but Spritle was only eleven, and children can't understand things like that. Spritle continuously thought that he had done something wrong, which only made Speed feel worse.  
  
Speed knew he wasn't going to get anymore sleep tonight, so he got out of bed slowly and quietly, and walked over to the large window of the hotel room. The electricity was out in this part of the city, as there wasn't a single light on for as far as he could see. The only way he caught a glimpse of the buildings was if a flash of lightning lit up the sky. He leaned over and rested his forehead against the glass, then closed his eyes and sighed.  
  
'Dammit! Why can't I just forget about this? And why can't I just figure it out?'  
  
'I'm not old, I'm still winning races, everything is still the same. Nothing is changing! Nothing!'  
  
  
  
***********  
  
  
  
"So, did that storm wake anyone up last night?" Pops said, in between sips of coffee.  
  
Everyone but Speed looked at him with confusion. "There was a storm last night?" Sparky asked.  
  
"Yes, apparently it was rather severe. It blew the electricity within a ten-mile radius, and there were even reports of tornadoes on the outskirts of the city."  
  
"That's Texas for you. Home of crazy weather and crazy politicians." Trixie said with a smile. Once again, everyone except Speed laughed.  
  
The weather that day was actually very beautiful, so far. Texas weather was a lot warmer than the weather back home. Here, it wasn't spring; it was summer. Pops, Trixie, Spritle, and Sparky were all planning to finish their work at the track early in order to be able to go out and enjoy the warmth of the afternoon. But Speed had said that he wanted to spend the whole day at the track. The truth was, he was hoping that by completely immersing himself in his work, he might be able to forget about the anxiety. Pops had been surprised when he said that, but had replied that a hard day of work would do him some good.  
  
Everyone continued to eat their breakfast, and it was predominantly silent, except for Sparky occasionally asking for answers to the crossword that he was attempting (and wasn't having much success with). Speed managed to force some orange juice and hot tea down his throat, but he really didn't feel like eating. However, he knew that if he didn't, Pops would just yell at him. Speed also knew that, while Trixie and Sparky were both very patient, Pops was approaching his limits. The last thing he needed that day was an argument.  
  
"I think I'm going to head for the track," Speed said. "I want to get started on the transmission work."  
  
Sparky quickly perked up. "Oh, I was going to do that for you, Speed."  
  
"Thanks, I appreciate it, but I'll take care of it. I'm a mechanic too, you know."  
  
Sparky smiled back at him, and dropped the paper that he had been reading. Speed was more cheerful than he had been for a long time, and he wanted to take full advantage of it. "Well, I'll ride with you at least. There's got to be something that you can order me to do."  
  
Speed couldn't help but grin, and he found that he instantly felt better. 'See, all you needed to do was occupy your mind with something else' he thought. He leaned over and kissed Trixie on her forehead, which surprised her.   
  
"What was that for?" she asked.  
  
"What, I need a reason?" Speed replied. She smiled and shook her head, then whispered, "Thank you".   
  
"I'll meet you two there. Trixie and I need to go over some computer diagrams before I can begin any physical work."  
  
"Why can't she come with us, and you review the diagrams yourself?" Speed asked.  
  
"Well, uh, she is really the expert with computers, and, uh, I…"  
  
"He doesn't know what the hell he's doing with them. Trixie sort of gives him the Cliffs Notes version of computer graphs." Sparky chimed in. Pops sweat-dropped, but he couldn't deny any of what Sparky had said.   
  
"Oh, alright. But don't be too long you guys." Speed said. He smiled down at both of them again, and then he and Sparky turned to leave the room.  
  
  
  
***********  
  
  
  
  
  
"Wow."   
  
Speed and Sparky both stood in awe at the sheer number of people at the track. As most of the racers were from other countries, Speed hadn't expected this many of them to be in town so early. After all, the race wasn't for another week. But it actually seemed as though everyone was there.  
  
"Well, I guess we should get over to our station. Um, where are we stationed again?" Speed asked Sparky.  
  
"Uh," Sparky pulled out a piece of paper from a manila envelope. "Docking bay number, uh, twenty six. Right next to…oh this ought to be fun…"  
  
"What? Who are we next to?"  
  
"Our dear friend Duggery."  
  
Speed groaned. "Wonderful. Just what I need right now."  
  
The two of them made their way over to their station, and sure enough, Duggery was hard at work on his car. But before he could pounce on them and give them a hard time, several other racers had approached the two of them, all offering friendly hellos and hand-shakes. Speed was glad to see so many familiar faces; he actually was beginning to wonder if all of his fears had simply been the product of isolating himself.  
  
Eventually, he found himself face to face with Racer X, who was grinning at him. "You just couldn't let me get two in a row, could you?" he joked.   
  
Speed smiled right back at him. "Nope. I haven't had a losing streak in three years, and I'm not about to start now."  
  
"Not if I have anything to do with it." Speed grimaced and his smile collapsed; he knew that he couldn't avoid Duggery forever. Duggery walked over to the two of them, and he was smiling at them, but it was definitely not a friendly smile; it was more like a sadistic smirk. Speed suddenly felt a strong urge to kick Duggery in the manly areas, which actually made him feel better; he was getting his temper back, a sure sign that he was returning to his old self.  
  
"Hello, Duggery." Speed said, stressing the D to a ridiculous degree. "How are you?" Speed's voice was rife with false sweetness.  
  
"I'm wonderful. I'm going to be three hundred thousand dollars richer in a week."  
  
"Really? Taking advantage of the numerous American lotteries?"  
  
Bingo. Duggery scowled, and everyone else, including Racer X, chuckled.   
  
"No, but maybe you should. After all, those two races you won earlier this year couldn't have provided you with very much money."  
  
"I buy cheap food." Speed replied. He was winning this particular confrontation, and he knew it. He turned back to face Racer X, and said, "It is wonderful to see you again."  
  
"Same to you. You look much better than you did the last time I saw you." Racer X replied. "And I hear that you turned twenty-one a little while ago…congratulations."  
  
"Thank you. I can drink legally now!" Speed said with a smile. But he realized a moment later that his addition of the word "legally" was not lost on Racer X. "Uh, not that I drank beforehand…"  
  
Racer X shook his head, but he laughed. "Don't worry about it kid; I was no angelic teenager myself."  
  
"Hey, I'm not a kid anymore."  
  
"Speed, people under the age of twenty-five are kids, at least in my opinion. My advice to you is, enjoy it."  
  
Speed smiled, and the two parted ways a few moments later. The greeting crowd had finally died down, and Speed was free to go over to the Mach Five, where Sparky had already begun working.   
  
"I've got the transmission man, you forget about it." Sparky said to him. "Oh, and I just got a call from Pops; he said that he and Trixie are on their way over."  
  
"Already? I was expecting the explanation process to take a lot longer."  
  
"Actually, I think Pops still doesn't understand it. He sounded a little frustrated over the phone. Trixie might have just given up, and figured that she'll be able to explain it to him once they get here."  
  
Speed laughed a little. "Yep, that sounds pretty plausible. I guess I'll go out and meet them at the gate."  
  
"Okeldokel." Sparky replied. Speed turned and gave him a look.   
  
"I'm never going to hear the end of that am I?" he said with a scowl.  
  
"Nope. Sorry man."  
  
"Jack ass. One slip of the tongue and I'm reminded of it for the rest of my life." Speed said as he walked away, leaving Sparky laughing.  
  
Speed felt amazing. For the first time in weeks, he didn't feel anxious, or fearful, or anticipatory of anything. He was finally home, surrounded by cars and friends and competition, and in a week, by screaming fans who were just waiting to see him blur past them. It was going to be a tough race, he knew that, but he was ready for it. A challenge was just what he needed, along with a laugh and some good company.  
  
He reached up and removed his outer shirt, stripping down to a plain white tank top. It is hot as hell here… he thought. And he realized, once he was outside, that he had left his sunglasses over with the rest of his belongings at the docking bay. He cupped a hand and put it across his forehead to block the sunlight, scanning the horizon for Trixie and Pops.   
  
But his scanning quickly came to an end, and he found himself frozen in a particular spot. The sweating that had previously been due to heat ceased, replaced by cold chills up and down his spine. His joy, his laughter, his light-hearted mood; all had been replaced by the familiar anxiety that had plagued him for so long…except now it had a cause.   
  
About fifty feet in front of him stood a man that had given him nightmares three years ago. A man who had tried to kill him, Trixie, and Racer X. A man with white hair, a hollow face, and a patch over one eye. A man that Speed thought had perished.  
  
"Anarchy…"  
  
His legs wouldn't move. In fact, no part of his body could move. He was simply frozen in place, staring at the white-haired man in front of him.   
  
It can't be…  
  
Everything about him was different. He was wearing different clothes, his hair was noticeably shorter, and he had replaced the jagged eye-patch with a more normal looking one.   
  
It just can't be…  
  
And yet, while so much was different, Speed saw so many things that were the same. His hair was still that putrid shade of greenish-white, he had that hollow, painfully pale skin, and that same lanky frame hadn't changed at all.   
  
Can it be…  
  
Speed continued to stare, feeling his breathing getting heavier and a sickening sensation coming to his stomach. Then, the lanky man lowered the cigar that he was smoking and moved just enough so that he made eye contact with Speed.   
  
It is…I'll never forget those eyes…  
  
It was Anarchy. The man who called himself Professor, the man who had told Speed that he would have been the 2,708 man that he personally would have killed, the man who had purposefully tried to obliterate the possibility of world peace three years ago. The man who had almost caused everything in Speed's life to fall apart.  
  
"Speed! Hey Speed!"   
  
Speed could vaguely hear Sparky's voice calling to him, but he was still frozen. His breathing continued to get heavier, and he felt as though his heart was going to explode, it was beating so rapidly. Anarchy wasn't moving either, although he appeared noticeably calmer. He clearly recognized Speed, and smiled at him in such a way that Speed feared would haunt his thoughts for a very long time…assuming that he would continue to live…  
  
"Speed!" Sparky arrived at his side, not noticing the look of horror on his friend's face. "Your father and Trixie are here, they're going to be coming in from this gate. I thought I'd join you…dude, are you okay?"  
  
Speed still couldn't reply, and the only words that stuck out in his mind were that his father and Trixie were to be coming in to the track through that gate…the gate that Anarchy was standing in.  
  
"Yo! Earth to Speed, come in Space Cadet Speed, is anyone receiving?" Sparky yelled at him.   
  
Something about that jerked Speed back to reality. He twisted his head to look down at his friend, then instantly moved it back to look at Anarchy, who he noticed was smashing the remains of his cigar on the ground. Anarchy then looked up at him one more time, smiled again, then turned to leave. But it just so happened that he had turned too abruptly, and hadn't been looking where he was going. Consequently, he ran right in to Trixie.  
  
It was immediately clear that Trixie didn't recognize him. She began apologizing, and innocently smiled up at him, even reaching to brush his coat off a little. Pops just stood by, laughing and cracking jokes about how Trixie was very accident-prone and always had to be watched carefully. But Speed's stomach turned when Anarchy reached down to stroke Trixie's face, saying that such a lovely girl couldn't be accident-prone; it was all his fault, for not looking where he was going. He even bent down and planted a gentle kiss on Trixie's cheek, which obviously surprised her a little, but she brushed her surprise off with a wink and a smile. Then, she and Pops turned and headed to wear Speed and Sparky were standing, with Anarchy walking backwards and watching them as they walked.  
  
Trixie's face lit up when she saw Speed. She lifted an arm to wave hello, as did Pops. Both were very cheerful, but their enthusiasm quickly died away when they saw the look of horror on Speed's face, and the look on confusion on Sparky's.  
  
"Hey! Speed, you look like you just saw a ghost…are you alright?" Trixie asked. Speed normally would have been sickened by the irony, but his breathing was so heavy that he couldn't concentrate on anything. There was something physically wrong with him, as if all the anxiety and fear that had been plaguing his mind had suddenly spread to his muscles, his lungs, and his heart.  
  
"Speed? What's the matter, boy?" Pops asked, trying to sound gruff, but obviously concerned.  
  
"Speed? Hey, look at me…Speed, look at me…" Trixie reached up a hand to touch his face, and he looked down at her with tears in his eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, but she was silenced by Speed's lifting of his own hand up to her face, looking down at her as if she was a little child moments away from death. Confusion and concern were all over her face, and they only grew stronger as he suddenly pulled her in to a tight hug.   
  
Trixie just stood there for a moment, unsure of what to do, but then lifted her arms up and hugged him back, although not nearly as tightly as he was holding her. But she didn't allow him to hold her for long, as his breathing was dangerously abnormal, and she could feel his heart beating rapidly.   
  
"Hey, hey…Speed, let go…Speed let go of me…"  
  
But Speed didn't let go of her. Instead, he collapsed to the ground, his body no longer able to support itself. And he took her with him, clutching her as if she were some kind of stuffed animal that a child would cling to when they were scared. She struggled out of his grasp, then looked over at Pops and Sparky, who were leaning over the two of them. Pops knelt down and put a hand on his son's chest, immediately recognizing the rapid heartbeat and breathing, and yelled that Speed needed medical attention…now.   
  
"I'll go call an ambulance, there is a phone in the Docking Area." Trixie said quickly. She stood up to leave, but didn't get far; Speed threw an arm out and grabbed on to her wrist. Trixie was beginning to panic, but she saw that Speed didn't want her to leave him, and so she didn't. Speed couldn't talk, but he appeared to be mouthing the words, "No…no…". Trixie looked up at Sparky, who understood her immediately, and he rushed off to call for medical help, while Trixie managed to move her arm just enough to remove it from his grasp, and take a hold of his hand. He gripped hers so hard that she felt her hand might break.  
  
Speed couldn't comprehend very much around him, as his body was going in to shock in order to protect itself from the incredible stress. But he forced himself to pay attention to where Sparky, Pops, and Trixie were. Pops had tried to leave once, and Speed grabbed a hold of his shirt. Sparky had gone to call for an ambulance, and Speed had continually stammed the word "Sparky" until Sparky had returned. When other people began to notice that something was wrong, they crowded around, blocking Speed's vision and inhibiting him from seeing where his family was. He panicked, and looked around wildly for them, finally seeing Pops and Sparky while still feeling Trixie's hand grasping his. Ambulance sirens could soon be heard, and everything was a mass of confusion…and then Speed blacked out.  
  
  
  
************  
  
  
  
"So, did you find him boss? Was he there?"  
  
Professor Anarchy closed the door behind him, removed his jacket, and smiled at the three men who were waiting for him. They could tell just from the look on his face that things had gone well, and here they hadn't even done anything yet. Professor Anarchy often looked angry, but very infrequently did he look as pleased as he did at that moment, so the men knew that something serious must have happened.  
  
"So what happened boss?" one of them eagerly questioned.  
  
"He was there, and he's got several of his family members with him. And to top it all off, he clearly remembers me. Poor boy nearly had a heart attack as soon as our eyes met. The situation couldn't be better."  
  
The three men laughed, cracking jokes about Speed's health and his violent episode. "Poor kid…I feel so sorry for him…" they all said separately.  
  
Anarchy smiled and walked in to another room. He reached to close the door, but before he did, he asked, "Is the office and crew ready?"  
  
"Absolutely. Been ready for a long time."  
  
And with that, Anarchy closed the door. He walked over to a table that sat in the middle of the room, on which several miscellaneous objects lay. A computer chip, a screwdriver, a microscope, and lots of papers. Anarchy touched each object with care, looking over each one, then gently placed them back on the table. Eventually, he picked up the papers, which were the exact same ones he had been viewing about a month ago in the warehouse. There were pictures of Speed, and Sparky, and Pops, as well as textual information about each of them. But Anarchy merely glanced at them; what he was really interested in, and what he looked at with great care, were the pictures and background information provided about Trixie.  
  
He knew everything about every one of them. And the poor people just didn't see what was coming. They didn't realize it, but each of them was going to reverse all of the damage that had been done by Speed three years ago. In fact, thinking that they were simply going to reverse it was rather pessimistic thinking; if luck was on his side, they would only serve to make things better than they were before.  
  
  
  
***********  
  
  
  
Speed was dreaming. In his mind, he saw flashbacks of events that had happened years and years ago. He saw Rex leaving home, he saw the first time he ever met Trixie, he saw himself embracing Sparky at their high school graduation. He saw his father, and his mother, and the little brother who depended on him for so much. There were inconsequential events as well as momentous ones. But the image that kept on returning, and returning, and returning, was that of his first encounter with Professor Anarchy.  
  
I'll offer you a choice: either join us, or die.  
  
He had been so arrogant; he recognized that now. His morals had told him to laugh at Anarchy, to bluntly refuse the offer to join his organization, to face death before he faced the idea of behaving dishonorably. And his morals had almost gotten him, as well as Trixie, and Spritle, and Racer X, all killed. But he didn't know what he would do if he could go back to that day; would he join the organization? Racer X had done it, and while Speed had believed that he was a traitor at the time, it actually turned out that Racer X had caused more damage and enacted more change from the inside than Speed ever could have from the outside. Would Speed be brave enough, if he could, to mask his morals for a period of time in order to fight for the greater good? Or would he just be arrogant once again?  
  
Don't trouble yourself, Professor Anarchy; I'll take care of the kid.  
  
And at last there was a reason for all of the anxiety. There was a reason that he had not been sleeping, had lost his appetite, and had been fearful for the safety of his family for nearly two months. In fact, he once again felt ashamed of his arrogance, as he believed that all of his fears were caused by the silly idea that he was getting older. He was worried about his childhood slipping away from him, when really he should have recognized that his life, and the lives of those he loved, could have slipped away.  
  
Either join us, or die.  
  
Speed just kept seeing images…he couldn't get the vision of Professor Anarchy out of his head. He had run across his fair share of despicable people in his life, but something about Professor Anarchy had been different. Anarchy had looked at him as if he saw something in Speed that even Speed couldn't see. This caused Speed a great deal of concern as well, except he didn't know what he was afraid of in this realm. What exactly did Anarchy see within him? And why was such a powerful man troubling himself with such a small, young man?  
  
Join us, or die.  
  
  
  
************  
  
  
  
Join us…or die? Hmm…what *does* professor Anarchy mean by that? And what are those funny little computer-thingies that he's playing with? And, most importantly, what exactly happened to our dear little racing car driver?  
  
  
  
I'm so evil. ) I love it.  
  
  
  
Read and review! Read and review! jvalen1@towson.edu 


	3. So It Begins

I won't bore you with too much rambling today. Just the usual, please read, enjoy, and review!  
  
And as for the disclaimer…eh, find your favorite, cut and paste it here. Or is that plagiarism in and of itself? Hmm…uh oh…  
  
************  
  
Speed didn't regain consciousness for nearly a day. And even when he first woke up, his eyes were wild and he was disoriented. The only things he could stammer were the names of his family members, all of which he was reassured were safe and sound. But he remained wild and anxious until they were all allowed in to the room with him. He began to calm down, and eventually, he was back to his old self…sort of. He was coherent at least, but he was terrified of something, and literally shook with fear. The only thing that everyone else didn't realize was that he wasn't afraid for himself; he was afraid for everyone else. Anarchy was capable of things that Speed couldn't even imagine.   
  
Pops, Trixie, Sparky, and Spritle all stood around his hospital bed, none of them knowing exactly what to say. Each of them felt worthless, as they didn't understand what had frightened Speed so much, but more than that, they didn't exactly comprehend the physical reaction he had. The doctors had mentioned a panic attack, which made sense to them, except they had no idea what instigated it. Pops couldn't even look at Speed; he was just staring off in to space, occasionally glancing up and slightly smiling before looking away once more.  
  
"Well, is anyone, uh, hungry?" Sparky said, hoping to lighten the mood slightly. But he went silent once more as everyone just looked at him as if he were insane. Actually though, his strategy worked. A moment later, Speed let out a slight laugh. Sparky would always be the comical one, even when they were all old and grey.  
  
"I get my food direct. Don't even have to chew it." Speed said, lifting his arm to reveal a feed tube that had been inserted. Sparky and Pops both laughed, but Trixie and Spritle didn't think it was funny. Which was something that Speed actually found rather odd; Spritle laughed at all jokes pertaining to food.  
  
"The doctors told us that you would be eating solid food again by tonight, and that you could probably leave by the end of the week." Pops said.  
  
Speed's smile faded. "The end of the week? That long?"  
  
"They want to make sure you're okay. They need to check on your heart, lungs, stuff like that. It's no big deal." Sparky said.  
  
"Yes it is a big deal!" Speed yelled, but immediately regretted the tone to his voice. He didn't want to turn this in to an argument; he had put his family through enough over the last few months. And he owed them cooperation. But the end of the week…he couldn't just wait for Anarchy to make a move. He was a sitting duck in the hospital, and what was worse, he was useless to Pops, Sparky, Trixie, and Spritle while he was there.   
  
"Call a doctor," Speed said quietly, but with an incredible amount of intensity in his voice. "I need to speak to someone."  
  
"Why? Is your heart speeding up again? Are you not breathing okay?" Sparky said, growing concerned.  
  
"No. I need to leave. And I have to tell them that."  
  
No one said anything for a moment, but at last Pops said, "That's out of the question, Speed. The doctors said that you need to stay here at least until Friday."  
  
"I can't stay here until Friday! I have to leave with you guys tonight!"   
  
"Speed, calm down." Trixie said quietly. This was the first time she had spoken since he woke up. "You are sick, and you have to stay in a place where people can take care of you."  
  
"But what about you? Who is going to take care of you?" Speed practically yelled. Trixie narrowed her eyes.  
  
"What are you talking about, Speed? None of us are in any kind of danger whatsoever…"  
  
"Yes you are!"  
  
"Speed, calm down…"  
  
"I will not calm down! You don't realize what is going on here!"  
  
"I haven't realized what has been going on for months now!" Trixie jumped to her feet and started yelling, finally losing her temper. "You've been reserved, kept to yourself, and haven't said a word to any of us! And now, as if three months of silence weren't enough, you are going through this drastic change where you suddenly feel this ridiculous urge to protect us from something that isn't even here!"  
  
Speed was silenced by her outburst. His prior feelings of guilt had crashed in on him like a river through a dam.  
  
"I'm sorry," she said, sitting back down. "But Speed, we're not going to do this anymore. I think I speak for everyone here when I say that you owe us both an apology and one hell of an explanation."  
  
Speed was stunned in to silence. He looked at Trixie, and then he turned to look at Sparky, who was slouching in a chair with his arms crossed and was staring right back at Speed. Pops had turned, and was no longer facing the window but was now looking at Speed as well. And when he turned to look at Spritle, who was looking back at him with innocence and love in his eyes, Speed had to bite his lower lip, which began to tremble.   
  
"I know. I know that I've treated you all horrifically, and I accept the guilt for that. But I can explain everything to you. I finally know what is going on."  
  
Everyone was silent for a moment, then Pops gently said, "We're listening."  
  
Speed looked graciously up at his father. For the time being, at least, everyone was being supportive. Everyone waited around him in anticipation for his response. He took a deep breath, but suddenly found himself unsure of where exactly he should begin.  
  
"Well, I don't really know where to start, but the first thing I need to tell you is that I'm sorry. For these past two months, I have been feeling this irrational anxiety that I haven't been able to explain, and I couldn't talk about it because I didn't know what was going on. But it prevented me from sleeping, from eating, and from just being myself. And that is why I was acting so horribly to you…and I'm sorry.  
  
I was so afraid of something. At first I thought it was just normal post-adolescent stress…I though I was worried about getting older, or all of us breaking apart, or something along those lines. There was something about myself that I could feel was changing, and I didn't know what it was. But now I know that it has nothing to do with those things…the problem is much more tangible than that. There is someone here, out there in the city somewhere, who I knew three years ago. And I don't think that it is just coincidental that we're both in the same city at the same time."  
  
Speed's voice drifted away, and he looked up at everyone to see what their reactions were. Sparky and Trixie looked as though they were fairly receptive to the things he was saying, and Spritle just looked confused. Pops, however, wasn't even looking at him. He had walked over to the window and was now looking at the landscape, as the sun drifted low in the sky and everything was covered with the glow of the sunset.  
  
"Who is it? And where did you see him?" Trixie asked quietly.  
  
"At the track. He was that man you bumped in to on your way in. The combination of seeing him, and seeing him…touch you," Speed stumbled over the words, "just surprised me so much that I couldn't stand it. I've never reacted like this before, and I still don't exactly know what happened."  
  
"You had a panic attack, Speed." Trixie reached out and took his hand, then received a gracious squeeze from Speed. "And you still haven't told us who it was. I didn't recognize him. I'll admit he was a little odd, but I don't remember ever seeing his face. And I've been in pretty much every situation that you have." She said, half-heartedly making a joke.  
  
Speed looked down at her, his eyes glazed over in sobriety and worry. "No, you didn't recognize him…and I'm not surprised that you didn't, since you never saw his face close up three years ago. You only saw him from a distance, and never looked into his eyes."  
  
"Who was it, son?" Pops said quietly. He was now facing away from Speed.   
  
"Professor Anarchy."  
  
Everyone fell silent. Trixie's eyes widened, and Sparky covered his face with his hands. Spritle finally started to show some signs of comprehension; he had been there, and although he also had never seen Professor Anarchy close up, he had heard endless stories about him. Spritle was at an age where he was finally starting to understand how dangerous some men could be…and Anarchy was one of the men who had tainted his innocent perspective of the world.  
  
"Professor Anarchy died, Speed. He died when his ship crashed." Pops said quietly.   
  
"That's what I thought too…but I swear to you, I'll never forget his face, and that man at the track, that was him. He's alive, and he's here, for some reason that I don't know."  
  
Speed thought that Pops didn't believe him, but in fact, he couldn't be further from the truth. Pops believed him with his whole heart, and he suddenly feared for the life of his son. He was desperately trying to think of ways to convince Speed that this wasn't Anarchy, that Anarchy was in fact dead, and had been dead for three years. But Pops had been there when the police told them that none of Anarchy's remains had been recovered from the wreck. He had known that the possibility had always existed that Anarchy would resurface. But he had prayed that Anarchy wouldn't cross paths with Speed again, even if he did survive the crash. He didn't want his son to get involved with this man again, because he feared that the outcome would not be as fortunate as it was the last time. Three years ago, luck was on Speed's side, but everyone's luck runs out eventually.  
  
Speed sighed and lowered his head. Exhaustion was once again taking a hold of him, and he felt like he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. But he forced them to stay open. He swore to himself that he would not abandon his family again. His body would stay awake and alert, no matter what.  
  
His attention soon shifted, though, as he looked down at Trixie's hand, which was still folded with his. He noticed that her arm was covered with bruises, most of which looked as though they had been caused by human violence…namely, his own. He vaguely remembered grabbing a hold of her, as he wasn't thinking about anything but keeping everyone within his eyesight. He reached out his other hand and gently stroked the bruises, silently starting to cry. He was ashamed of his tears, as he felt too old to be doing this, but he just couldn't hold them back. The bruises were just the physical manifestation of all of the pain he had caused everyone for months.  
  
"I'm sorry…" he whispered. Trixie looked up at him with love in her eyes, and immediately brought him in to a hug. Pops turned around, and he couldn't stop himself from joining the hug. Sparky and Spritle joined as well, the five of them stood there for what felt like a lifetime, embracing each other in silence. Everyone was scared, but they knew that the important thing was that, for the moment, everyone was safe, and they were together.  
  
************  
  
The track had slowly progressed from being bustling and lively to being a dead zone. All the lights had been switched off, as everyone had trickled out of the building. The machines that had been in use all day were no longer whirring, there were no conversations taking place anywhere. There was just silence.  
  
Racer X sat in the dark, the only person remaining at the track. Sitting alone in the dark was not something new to him; he had often practiced this ritual whenever something was bothering him. The darkness somehow gave him the illusion that the world had stopped turning, that everything had frozen in time, and was just lying in wait for him to find a solution. But most of the time, when he thought, he eventually came up with an answer; now, there was nothing.  
  
Speed had seen something that scared him to the point where he almost had a heart attack. Racer X remembered rushing over to his side, feeling for a pulse, keeping a close eye on Speed's vital signs. Speed had never had anything like this happen before; Racer X had watched him for years, and Speed was extremely healthy. And he had never reacted to anything that severely either; he was human, and he experienced fear just like everyone else, but normally he could handle it. But something had happened that overloaded his mind.  
  
What could frighten Speed that much?  
  
Racer X also knew that Speed had desperately tried to keep an eye on Trixie, Pops, and Sparky right before he blacked out. In fact, he had rather violently clutched Trixie's arm, and Racer X knew that she was going to have some pretty significant bruises the next day.   
  
So something frightened him, and he wanted to see everyone else. Was he trying to protect them, or did he just want them there with him, to protect him?  
  
No, that wasn't right. Speed would never try and keep anyone in harm's way just so that they could protect him. So he must have been trying to protect them…but from what?  
  
Racer X didn't know anything about what he had seen, or what had happened to Trixie, Sparky, or Pops beforehand. He had no information whatsoever. And as a relatively impatient man when it came to dangerous situations, he didn't like not knowing what was happening.  
  
He sighed and reached up to take off his mask. He was tired, and the weather was still hot, despite the fact that it was almost midnight. It's weather like this that makes me wish I didn't have to wear a mask all the time. He thought to himself with a slight laugh. He ran his fingers through his short, dark hair and rubbed his eyes.   
  
I'm not getting anywhere here. I need to get some more information from Speed.  
  
Rex reached for his keys, then suddenly remembered that he had left them at his Docking Bay. He stood up, stretching out his long legs and torso which had been cramped up for too long, then began to walk over to his Bay. It was dark, but he could make out the form of his keys on the table he had been given. He stopped, picked them up, and then froze. There were footsteps echoing in the building…footsteps that weren't his own.  
  
"Hello, Racer X. Although I don't feel that it is appropriate to call you by that name anymore…would you prefer I call you Rex, or just Mr. Racer?" a voice said from the darkness. Rex couldn't see anything, but he recognized that voice. Three years had not dulled his memory anymore than they had dulled Speed's. But he refused to let his fear show through.  
  
"Mr. Racer is my father's name." He said. And with that, he felt a blunt blow to the back of his head, and then everything went black.  
  
************  
  
Three days after his panic attack, Speed was finally being released from the hospital. He figured to himself that they had simply run out of cardiovascular tests for him to complete, and so they decided to let the hamster out of the cage (or at least, that was what Sparky had said). He couldn't have been happier though; he was getting really tired of eating red Jell-o, and now that he knew he wasn't going to be in the race, he wanted to get home. He still didn't doubt that it had been Anarchy that he had seen at the track, but he was beginning to doubt that Anarchy was here for him. Perhaps it had been coincidence after all…Anarchy did study automobiles to a great degree. Not for very valiant purposes, but Speed decided that he would file a report with the authorities, and then forget that it ever happened. He wasn't a police officer; he was just a racer, and he really didn't want to meddle in the affairs of law enforcement.  
  
Nevertheless, he still had all of his paranoia around the safety of his family. He was constantly asking where they were when visiting hours weren't in effect, and when they were visiting him, he insisted that they stay with him. Sparky, always the source of laughter among the group, had made cracks about how Speed couldn't protect them even if he wanted to; his body was falling apart at the seams. But Trixie and Pops were clearly getting annoyed with Speed's overprotectiveness. And in addition to that, Speed couldn't help but notice that his constant surveillance of them was only serving to frighten everyone more. Unlike Speed, none of them had any idea what Anarchy really looked like, and so they didn't know who to look out for.   
  
But she had a smile waiting for him as he emerged from his room, dressed in his own clothes and more than ready to get out of there. He smiled down at her and draped an arm over her shoulders.  
  
"I am so done with this place. I really hate hospitals." Speed said as they made their way to the sign-out desk.   
  
"I'm with you on that one. There is something about the fact that the morgue is adjacent to the pediatric wing that is just wrong."  
  
"That's sick." Speed replied, although he actually found it kind of funny, in a weird sort of way. The two walked over to the nurses station, and Speed comically drummed the countertop with his hands in order to get their attention. They looked up, and immediately started giggling when he grinned down at them. Paranoia and neuroticism had not ruined the fact that Speed had a great smile. But they quickly looked away when they saw Trixie giving them a don't-even-think-about-it look.   
  
"Hello. You're signing out, aren't you? Uh, Mr. Racer, is that your name?" the receptionist said to them.  
  
"Yes. Signing out," Speed said, then turned to face Trixie and mouthed the words 'Thank God'. She giggled, and elbowed him slightly.  
  
"Okay. We just have some forms to fill out…may I have your name please?"  
  
Speed paused for a moment. "Uh, are you serious?" Speed asked her. "I thought you knew who I was."  
  
"I have to ask you, dear. Name?"  
  
"Speed Racer." Speed looked down and shook his head at Trixie, who giggled once again.  
  
"Age?"  
  
"Twenty-one."  
  
"Height and weight?"  
  
"Six-foot one, 180 pounds."  
  
"What were you in for?"  
  
"You make it sound like prison…I had a panic attack a few days ago."  
  
"And who was your primary doctor while you were here?"  
  
"Um, I think his name was Dr. Weitz."  
  
"Ah yes…and do you have medical insurance?"  
  
"Yes, but I think I already gave you that information when I entered the hospital."  
  
"Did you…oh, yes, I have it here. Well, I think that is everything…have a nice day, both of you."  
  
"Thanks a lot! Bye." And with that, Speed and Trixie headed for the exit.  
  
"The prison comment was unnecessary, Speed. Not that I disagree with you, though. And it is a bit anal that they have to *ask* you what your name is…what if you decided to lie?"  
  
"Good question. I'll have to try that the next time I'm 'in'."   
  
************  
  
Racer X had awoken to find himself in a very dark room, only illuminated by one candle. He also immediately noticed that he was handcuffed *and* tied to a chair. That's just overkill he thought. For two days straight, he had not received a drop of water or any food at all, so he knew that he was incredibly dehydrated, but he was familiar with things like that. As a secret agent, he had been trained to cope with various kinds of torture, and so he was actually feeling better than could be expected. That's not to say that he wasn't suffering, however; his head was splitting, and he felt dizzy, tired, and nauseous. But he couldn't worry about himself, and he kept reminding himself of how important it was that he remained strong.  
  
However, one particular moment, when he had been somewhere in between being awake and sleeping, he heard footsteps behind him. Whoever it was, he was moving slowly, yet making his presence clear, drawing every sound that he made out for a long time. This was another form of psychological torture, though, and Rex knew how to cope with it.   
  
"I assume that you remember me, Rex?" a voice finally said.  
  
"How could I forget." Rex had to remember his training; seem calm, relaxed, and unthreatened. He couldn't let them know that he was actually rather afraid. He had, after all, betrayed them three years ago, and had nearly shut down their entire organization.   
  
"Good. So we can forget about formalities then." Professor Anarchy then stepped in front of Rex, his characteristic smirk plastered on his face.   
  
"Do you know why you are here, Rex?" Anarchy asked, looking over a piece of paper that he had carried in with him.  
  
"Of course. I'm behind on my rent."  
  
Anarchy laughed. "They train you well at Interpol, don't they?" Racer X had to try very hard to mask his shock; he knew that Anarchy knew who he was, and that he wasn't just an automobile racer, but he didn't realize that Anarchy knew who he really worked for. But, his attempts clearly weren't good enough.  
  
"Oh yes, I know about your position there. You carry a great deal of prestige, as a matter of fact."  
  
Rex was silent.  
  
"Now do you know why you're here? And be serious please; I'm an old-man, and I don't have time to play around with you."  
  
"You're old, that's for sure."  
  
Anarchy was losing his patience. His face turned stern, and once again he asked, "Do you know why you're here?"  
  
"Hmm...Nope. You're going to have to inform me, I guess."  
  
"Ah. It seems as though Interpol chooses its agents based on sheer size, as opposed to say, I don't know, mental ability? But more on that later…and you are an arrogant fool if you think that this is solely about you. Come to think of it, you always were an arrogant fool. Time marches across your face, but it doesn't march across your intelligence—or, at least, not across yours. It certainly has affected mine."  
  
"Do you have a point, Anarchy? Or do you just like to hear yourself talk?"  
  
Anarchy sighed, as if he were tired and stressed, but Rex knew that he loved this. He was going to drag this conversation on for as long as he could.   
  
"Well, since you apparently can't figure out why you're here, I guess I'm just going to have to tell you."  
  
"I guess so."  
  
A very bright light was suddenly switched on. Rex squinted, as his eyes had known nothing but darkness for two days straight. But through the tiny slits that remained open he could see Anarchy walk in front of him. His hair was shorter, and the sickeningly green patch he had once worn had been replaced by an equally putrid yellow one, but it was still him.  
  
"Let me answer that question by proposing another one." Anarchy had a terrible, twisted smile plastered across his face. "Why, three years ago, did you beat your brother?"  
  
Rex had been caught off guard by that one. He knew that he shouldn't answer; that he could never say the right thing, that anything he said would be ammunition for Anarchy to use against him. But his intellect and reason couldn't win this battle; he spoke with his heart.  
  
"To save his life." He growled, his prior control lost.   
  
"To save his life…to save his life? But surely, there could have been something else that you could have done? You could have walked in to the room with us, and said something to stay my trigger finger. You could have said that he meant nothing, that it would suffice to lock him up with the others, that there was no point to even wasting three minutes on him."  
  
Rex remained silent for a moment. "It wouldn't have been enough for you. You had to see some kind of harm come to him."  
  
"But you don't know that. You never tried to find out if any of those options would have been enough. And instead, you beat unconscious a scared little boy. He must have looked at you with thousands of things in his eyes…how could you have met his eyes? I don't have any siblings, I must admit, but even I, cold-hearted and aged, could not have looked in to the eyes of a little boy who had adored me. And he did adore you. You were his brother, who had taken care of him in sickness and had played with him in health. You must have walked him to his first day of school, taught him to throw a baseball, and tucked him in at night, telling him not to be afraid, that nothing lurking in the darkness could hurt him because you would be there, watching over him. How could you look in to the eyes of that little boy?"  
  
"But," Anarchy said after a moment, not even giving Rex time to answer, "that isn't the issue at the moment. The question that I really want to know is, do you love your family? Do you love them to the point where nothing, *nothing* could drive you to hurt them? And I mean, *really* hurt them?"  
  
Rex's eyes narrowed. He didn't exactly know what to say to that. It was clearly some kind of riddle, but Rex knew next to nothing about Anarchy's current activities, and so he couldn't infer anything from what he had said. He thought long and hard, but his ruminations were interrupted by a prick in his neck. He hadn't noticed that another man had come in with Anarchy; the same man who years before had worn the maroon suit and had been Anarchy's right-hand man. And now he was administering some kind of shot to Rex.  
  
Rex's vision quickly became blurry, and he felt himself drifting off to sleep as Anarchy just sat in front of him smiled.   
  
The last things he heard were, "We'll see, won't we?"  
  
************  
  
"I don't remember bringing all of this." Sparky said as he looked around at the Racer's docking bay area.   
  
"It always works out that way. Whenever you go on a trip, you always return with more crap than you started out with." Trixie replied. "It's a fact of life."  
  
"Well, that's the woman's perspective on travel, anyway." Speed chimed in. Trixie gave him a look, which he smiled at. If there was one thing that Trixie hated, it was stereotypes of women.  
  
"Come on guys, let's just get started. We've got a lot to pack up before the flight." Speed said, brushing past them.   
  
"Whatever happened to the old maxim clean-up-your-own-messes?" Trixie grumbled.  
  
"It died, along with the maxim of a-woman's-place-is-in-the-home. Sorry babe, but if you want gender equality, then there has got to be gender equality everywhere." Sparky said. Trixie once again grimaced.  
  
"Thank you Gloria Steinem." Trixie said under her breath.   
  
"Who's that?" Sparky asked.  
  
"Forget it. Oh, Speed, where is Racer X's docking bay? I loaned him some computer print-outs yesterday, but I kind of need them back."  
  
"Oh, he's at station four. He should be in right now; everyone else is."  
  
"Alright. I'll be right back then."  
  
"Do you want me to go with you, Trix?" Speed asked quickly.  
  
Trixie turned and gave him a look. "Sorry He-Man, but you're going to have to sit this battle out. A forty-foot walk is too strenuous for you in your present condition."  
  
"The Trixinator is right, Speed. Besides, you need to stay here and watch over everything; I need to go see Frank Lohren. He said he would help me withdraw you from the race. Paperwork and all that, you know the drill."  
  
Speed didn't like them joking about stuff like that, but he knew that they were right. There were people everywhere, it was broad daylight, and if he strained his eyes, he could even keep both of them in sight the whole time. "Yeah yeah…get going then. And don't let her hear you calling her that; she hates that nickname."  
  
"Does she prefer the Dominatrix? Nah…too racy. Trix are for kids, after all."  
  
"You are a freak. You know that, right?"  
  
"Of course, my man. But I'm a self-established freak. And you are too, you know."  
  
"Will you get out of here?!?"  
  
"Alright, alright…chill out."  
  
Speed then commenced in packing everything up slowly, placing objects gingerly in brown boxes. He really felt awful for missing the race; Sparky and Pops and Trixie had gone to so much trouble to prepare him for it. But he wouldn't pass the physical inspection, and the Mach Five wasn't ready either, so it was just impossible. Of course, he had also *really* wanted to kick Duggery's ass, but then again, there would always be other races.  
  
"So Racer…how've those nerves been? Nervous?"  
  
Speed scowled. Speak of the devil… he thought.  
  
"Hi Duggery." He muttered. This was going to be painful, he could see it coming. This was yet another reason why he hated showing physical weakness; people like Duggery made sure that they took full advantage of it. Speed knew he wasn't going to hear the end of this until he was at least twenty-five.  
  
"It's too bad that you won't be in the race. I was really looking forward to some friendly competition…it's going to be too easy for me without you around. Not that it would have been hard to begin with."  
  
"Duggery, I can't tell you how much I enjoy these little confrontations of ours, but in the interest of saving time, why don't you just get to the point?"  
  
"I don't have a point, Racer. I'm just killing time, making conversation, you know. Trying to be friendly."  
  
"Right. Why don't you be friendly somewhere else? I've got enough friends, thank you."  
  
"Oh Racer, you're so cliquish. So elitist! You should really work on that you know."  
  
Speed knew how to tell when the time was right for him to be quiet. He couldn't let Duggery get him worked up; he had too many other things to worry about. Duggery was just an annoyance, but there were really dangerous people out there that Speed had to pay attention to. So, he shut up, and got back to work.  
  
"And anyway," Duggery continued, "I know you've got enough friends. That friendship circle that was drawn around you when you first arrived made that pretty clear. It's too bad though; some really great people waste a lot of time with you. Take Trixie, for instance."  
  
Speed began to shove automotive parts in to various cardboard boxes. He knew that he must keep his hands occupied, due to the knowledge that if he didn't, he might just be unable to control the urge to rearrange some of Duggery's teeth. And in his mind, he literally started counting sheep in order to calm himself down…they were the most docile thing he could think of, the most innocuous…and the most unlike Duggery.   
  
"Trixie's a smart girl, or I should say, young woman. Great at school, friendly, and she's got one hell of a smile. Not a bad body either…bit flat-chested for me, but hey, I guess all you need is a handful, right Racer?"  
  
See the sheep…all the pretty sheep…there's one sheep, two sheep, three sheep…  
  
"She hangs around you too much though. Waste of her time. She should be with her girlfriends more, doing girly things, and enjoying life. Not to mention studying; I hear she's got great potential in the academic world. But she'll never get anywhere if she keeps hanging around you."  
  
Sheep are soft and cuddly…they are covered with wool…wool is excellent material for making sweaters…  
  
"Actually though, that's the least of her worries around you. You waste her time, her intelligence, and not to mention, her life. You guys have gotten in to some pretty nasty predicaments, all of which have been either caused by or exacerbated by you, and while you've always managed to come out alive before, one of these days someone is going to get hurt. I just hope you don't wind up killing her as a result of your own selfishness."  
  
Screw the sheep  
  
Speed launched himself at Duggery, and unleashed his rage. Duggery had been annoying before, but he had gone too far, and Speed was too mentally stressed to keep his anger under control. Normally, he was pretty responsible when it came to fighting…well, sometimes anyway…okay, occasionally…but Duggery deserved all of this. What he had said was simply cruel. However, what Speed didn't want to admit was his fear that Duggery might be right. He had always thought that he put his family in danger, but he never actually said it out loud to himself. And here Duggery had seen everything that Speed subconsciously felt.  
  
The fight was pretty one-sided; Duggery talked big, but he couldn't compare with Speed, who was a far superior fighter. Duggery threw the occasional punch, but mostly he just tried to defend himself. Thankfully for him though, the fight didn't last long, as Sparky along with several other miscellaneous men who had been standing around ripped to two of them apart. Speed was screaming curses at Duggery, who yelled some right back. Speed was silenced however when Pops arrived on the scene. He violently shook the other men's arms off of him, saying that he was fine and that he had done what he had meant to do (referring to the bloody gash across Duggery's forehead).   
  
"That's right, Racer, cower when Daddy comes along!" Duggery yelled, being pulled away by several people.  
  
"Shut up, and think before you open that hole of yours again!" Speed yelled in response. "You're lucky I didn't feel like doing any permanent damage."  
  
Pops surprisingly actually didn't look that mad. Oh he was angry, most definitely, but he had actually heard everything that Duggery had said to Speed. Speed had remained calm for a lot longer than he would have if he were in his situation…but he decided not to mention that.  
  
"Are you finished now?" Pops growled at him. Speed looked down at his hands, both of which were bloody and had lots of cuts on them. He nodded.  
  
"Then let's just get back to work, shall we?"  
  
Speed nodded again, and silently wrapped one of his hands in a white towel that had been lying around. He then started to pick things up again, but noticed out of the corner of his eye that Trixie was standing about ten feet away from him, looking incredibly pale and frightened. He could only assume that she had been horrified at the sight of the fight.  
  
But before he said anything, she had opened her mouth and whispered, "There's blood."  
  
"Oh…don't worry about it Trix…I came out a lot better than he did, I'll tell you that much."  
  
"That's not what I meant. I meant there's blood in Racer X's Docking Bay. And he's not there."  
  
Speed stared at her incredulously, and Pops and Sparky looked up from what they were doing in surprise.   
  
"And I talked to the Super in charge of competitor access to the area…he said that Racer X never checked out on Monday night. He checked in, but didn't check out. And no one has seen him since."  
  
"What about the blood? You said there was blood in his Docking Bay?" Pops asked anxiously.  
  
"The Super said no one had noticed it. It was pretty hidden; there were loads of books and papers stacked over it, as if someone had deliberately tried to hide it. I was the first one to see it, since I was digging around in the papers for my print-outs."  
  
Speed felt as though his legs would give out from underneath him. Trixie's words echoed in his mind…Racer X was missing, he had obviously been injured, and someone had tried to hide the evidence…  
  
It's starting  
  
************   
  
Whew! That was a little on the long side. Oh well…them's the breaks.   
  
Please review…if you do I'll love you forever and ever and ever (or, at least, until I clean out my mailbox…kidding! I never erase my reviews). jvalen1@towson.edu 


	4. Enemy

Chapter Five…chapter five. Things are getting evil...mwahahaha! (that's the evil laugh, in case no one recognizes it). And do you want to know what else is evil? Chemistry. It's evil.

Ahem, ANYWAY, read and lemme know whatcha think. Mmm'Kay?  
  
Disclaimer: As usual, not mine. Sorry to disappoint you.

* * *

"Battle not with monsters

lest ye become a monster,

and if you gaze into the abyss,

the abyss gazes into you."

Friedrich Nietzsche

* * *

The Docking Bay area was growing quiet. News of the blood found and Racer X's disappearance was rapidly spreading, and as a result, no one had the bright cheer that they had only moments before. Some people kept on working on their cars, but most actually stopped and were now engaged in heavy conversation. Rumors were flying around, as everyone tried to come up with their own explanation of exactly what had happened. But everyone was nervous; Racer X was highly respected, had a great number of friends, and was known to be an incredibly strong man. If his strength had not been enough in a fight, then that meant something serious was happening.  
  
Speed, Pops, Trixie, and Sparky had no idea what to do. Speed was actually in the best mental condition out of all of them; he had at least had a vague idea that something like this would happen. Pops, Trixie and Sparky were all confused, and felt a great deal of guilt at having given Speed such a hard time for the past few days. He had been right; Anarchy was somewhere out there, and it wasn't a coincidence that he was close.  
  
However, as Trixie and Sparky both sat down to think, Pops immediately rushed out of the room before anyone could stop him. He yelled back to the three that he was going to the hotel the find Spritle, and bring him to the track, where he could be watched. Speed tried to run after him, knowing that the four of them shouldn't separate, but he wasn't fast enough. Pops normally wasn't much of a runner, but when he had that kind of fire in his eyes and purpose in his heart, he couldn't be stopped. So Speed gave up and turned back to face his friends, who were just sitting quietly, both engaged in deep thought.  
  
Speed felt like he had to say something. He knew from his own experience during the past few months that it didn't do anyone any good to be alone when they were frightened. No matter how insane their thoughts would sound, the three of them had to talk.   
  
"You guys…" he started, but his voice drifted away. Sparky and Trixie looked up at him, waiting for him to say something, but he couldn't think of anything to say. It was almost as though he didn't want to admit what was going on, even though he knew in his heart that everything was exactly as he had feared.  
  
"We don't know anything yet, guys. He could have had an accident, and left for his hotel room, forgetting that he was supposed to sign out. And, well, maybe he didn't have any work left to do on his car, so he didn't come back. He is a bit of a loner, after all."  
  
His words weren't doing anything. Sparky and Trixie looked just as worried, and they didn't say anything in response. All they did was look at one another, and then lower their heads.   
  
"Guys," Speed started gently, "We really can't jump to conclusions. We need to stay rational here."  
  
Both were still silent.  
  
"Will you say something already?" Speed couldn't help but raise his voice.  
  
"What do you want us to say, Speed?" Trixie said quietly.  
  
"I want you to tell me what you're thinking." His voice once again was gentle.  
  
Trixie looked up at him, and he could see tears forming in her eyes. Everything, from hearing that Anarchy was back to finding blood in Racer X's Bay, was taking its toll on her. And when Speed looked in to her eyes, Duggery's words echoed in his mind.  
  
Am I going to be the end of my family?  
  
Trixie had nothing to do with Anarchy three years ago. She had not been curious like he had, and the only reason why her life had been endangered was because she had been looking for him. It had all been his fault.  
  
"You want to know what I'm thinking, Speed? I'm thinking that Racer X might not even be alive. I'm thinking that any one of us could be next. I'm thinking that you are the only one who knows exactly what this man looks like, and the rest of us are helpless. That is what I am thinking!" she cried at him.  
  
"Not to mention, we don't even know what he wants." Sparky added quietly. "It can't be just revenge; he's too powerful and too important to bother with individual people."  
  
Speed sat down on a box, sighed, and covered his face with his hands. He didn't know what to say in response to his friends. He wanted to comfort them, to tell them that Racer X was fine, and that they would leave and go back to their normal lives as soon as they could. But he couldn't say anything of the sort, because it would have been a lie. The three of them were stumbling around in the dark, and it was just as Speed had feared: he hadn't seen any of this coming until it was too late to do anything.

* * *

"Spritle! Spritle!" Pops called out over and over again, once he had entered the hotel room that he and Spritle were sharing. "Where are you? Spritle!"  
  
Spritle awoke with a start and fell off of the chair he had been seated in. He was out on the balcony, napping in the sunlight, and enjoying the warm weather. But it sounded like Pops had just rushed in to the room, screaming like a banshee, and obviously Spritle had done something wrong. He immediately started going over things in his mind that could have possibly gotten him in trouble.  
  
Those cashew turtles I stole from him? Nah, that was nearly three weeks ago. His baseball cap that I got a stain on? Uh, Chim Chim chewing a hole in one of his tennis shoes? My multiplication test? I thought Mom promised me she wasn't going to tell Pops about that…  
  
"SPRITLE!" Pops sounded ridiculously panicked, and Spritle braced himself for the worst. He gulped, and slowly slid the glass door open.  
  
"I'm right here, Pops. Whatsamatter?" Spritle said quietly, purposefully adding lots of innocence to his voice.  
  
Pops turned around and heaved a heavy breath of relief. Then, he took three long steps and lifted his youngest son up off of the ground. Spritle was getting a bit too heavy and tall for him to lift, but Pops was just so glad to see that he was alright that he felt the strength of his young days as a wrestler returning to him. Spritle was completely in the dark as to what was going on, but he figured that what he must have done couldn't have been all that bad.   
  
"Hey Pops…I can't breathe…" Spritle gasped after a little while. Pops quickly put him down and knelt down so that the two were eye to eye.  
  
"I'm sorry. Are you hurt? Has anyone been here all morning? Has anyone tried to get in to the room?"  
  
"Uh, no. Not unless you count the breakfast dude. Why?"  
  
"I can't explain right now. But you have to come with me right now; we need to get to the track. We need to meet back up with your brother and the others."  
  
"Why? I thought you said that I wasn't allowed to go to the track until the race. Remember, you said I would just get in the way!"  
  
"Forget what I said, and do what I tell you! Now come on!" And with that, Pops grabbed a hole of Spritle's little arm and dragged him out of the room. Spritle was hopelessly confused, and protested the whole way out the door, down the stairs, and to the car.  
  
"Pops! Slow down; I'm short, I can't run very fast compared to you, you're hurting my arm…POPS!"  
  
"Be quiet, Sprit…" Pops suddenly stopped though, and his face turned ashen white. The ceasing of his motion caused Spritle to crash in to his legs, and Spritle went tumbling to the ground, grumbling. "Why me…why was I born in to such a weird family…" Spritle muttered as he pushed himself back up to standing.  
  
"What is the deal here, Pops? And now what are you staring at? People are looking at you funny, you know."  
  
But Pops remained silent, his face blank. Spritle was getting really frustrated, and he threw up his hands in disgust, then turned to see what exactly it was that Pops was staring at.   
  
His confusion and frustration quickly turned to surprise and awe when he could clearly tell what had caused such a rapid transition in Pop's demeanor. He pulled his hand out of Pops' grasp, and rubbed his eyes, as if he didn't really believe what he was seeing. But, it was undeniable. He had never seen that face in person, but there were photographs of it all over his house, and he had looked at them every day.   
  
Rex was not eighteen anymore, and so his face had subtly changed, with his cheekbones and jawline becoming more pronounced…but it was undeniable. Leaning against Pops' car, with his hands in his pockets and a slightly crooked smile on his face, was his eldest brother. He was waiting for them.

* * *

"You know, Pops has been gone for a long time." Sparky said quietly.  
  
The three of them hadn't been talking very much, but once Sparky spoke up, each one of them turned to look at the clock. Pops had, indeed, been gone for nearly two hours. And the hotel was no more than a half hour's drive in each direction. Spritle could be slow in the mornings, but not that slow.  
  
"Maybe we should call him on his cell phone." Trixie said, unsure of herself. "Does he have it with him?"  
  
"He always does." Speed said, walking over to the nearby phone. "They might be in traffic or something; it is about noon, after all." Speed felt the familiar sick feeling returning to his stomach, but he refused to jump to conclusions. The traffic idea was very plausible, after all.  
  
He picked up the phone, dialed the number, and listened to it ring five times. When the voicemail picked it up, he quickly hung up and mechanically dialed the number again. It rang once, twice, three times, and then someone finally answered it.   
  
"Hello? Pops? Pops, is that you?" he said quickly. "Is anyone there?"  
  
"Interesting question Speed. I always knew you were full of interesting ideas."  
  
Speed's heartbeat increased tenfold. Whoever this was, it wasn't Pops, not was it Spritle. But he didn't recognize the voice, so he just froze, and kept listening.  
  
"Is anyone there? Well, what do you think Speed? Do you think that people will always be there for one another? Is there anyone out there in the void who will always listen to you, care for you, be there for you? Do you believe that by simply dialing a number you can reach anyone in the world? And do you believe that the person you want to reach will always answer you?"  
  
"Who is this?" Speed snarled, so quiet and intense that his voice was barely audible.  
  
"Or, this question could be taken to a deeper level. Do you believe that any of us are here Speed? Are we immortal souls trapped in mortal bodies, just waiting to die so that we can finally be released? Or are we nothing more than biological animals, who have invented the idea of personality and individuality in order to fight the truly rational fear that we all possess that death may just be the end. The end of everything."  
  
"Who is this?" Speed said in a louder tone. Tears were coming to his eyes, and Sparky and Trixie stood up, looking at him with concern.   
  
"Oh, dear little brother, you don't remember my voice? I'm hurt. Truly hurt."

* * *

Speed abruptly hung up the phone, and backed away from it as if it were some wild animal. He couldn't believe it, but more importantly, he couldn't explain it. It couldn't have been Rex…what would Rex be doing with Pops' cell phone? Why would he come back now? And why would he talk in riddles, as if he were some insane nihilist?   
  
It had to be Anarchy impersonating Rex; that was the only logical explanation. Anarchy was trying to mess with his head, trying to confuse him, trying to use his emotions against him. But Speed thought that he remembered Anarchy's voice just as clearly as he remembered his face, and that voice on the telephone didn't sound like Anarchy. In fact, Speed didn't remember Rex's voice very well, since he had left home when Speed was only ten, but he did remember the general tone of it. It had been warm and gentle, yet deep and strong. And the voice over the phone had been deep, and strong, and frightening. Speed didn't believe that Rex would come back only to betray and destroy his family…but the voice had been so familiar.  
  
And what about Pops, and Spritle? Pops should have answered his own phone; the fact that he didn't could only mean that he was hurt, or captured, or…Speed didn't want to think of any other possibilities.   
  
"Who was it, Speed?" Sparky asked, his eyes wide.   
  
Speed looked up at his friend, and whispered, "I don't know. He said that he was…"  
  
"Who?" Trixie said.  
  
"He said that he was Rex."  
  
Trixie and Sparky started, and looked at each other. Rex Racer had always been a bit of an enigma for them, as they had not known him for long. They both had been very, very little when he ran away; only nine years old, and had only talked to him once or twice. He had seemed nice enough, a bit arrogant perhaps, but then again all teenagers were. And Speed had always talked fondly of him.  
  
"It can't be…" Sparky whispered. "Rex has been gone for eleven years, we don't know where he is, and here he suddenly has Pops' cell phone?"  
  
"Pops…" Trixie said suddenly. "Whoever he was, did he say anything about Pops? Or Spritle? Or what about Racer X?"  
  
"No, he didn't say anything about them. He just talked like a madman, rambling about life, or destiny, or…I don't know. He was just insane."  
  
Speed walked away from the phone, bringing one of his hands up to his forehead. "It just can't be him…Rex would never talk about life as if it were meaningless. He…" Speed's voice trailed off. Rex couldn't have changed that much in eleven years. And he couldn't believe that Rex would ever want to hurt him, or the other members of the family; all the memories Speed had of his older brother were ones of a peaceful adolescent, smiling and cherishing life.   
  
"Do you think it might have been Anarchy?" Sparky asked.   
  
"I have no idea…I thought I remembered Anarchy's voice, and it didn't sound like him, but he's the only person I can think of who would talk like that. It was almost as though…"  
  
"What?" Trixie said gently.  
  
"It was almost as though—this is going to sound insane—it was Rex speaking, but Anarchy speaking through him." Speed said quietly. "But that doesn't make sense."  
  
Sparky opened his mouth to speak again, but was cut off by the sound of the telephone ringing again. The three of them stared at it for a moment, none of them wanting to answer it, but it just kept ringing. They all looked at one another, and Speed finally mustered up the courage to pick it up, very slowly.  
  
"Hello?" he asked.  
  
"You shouldn't hang up on people like that, little brother. Didn't Mom and Pops ever teach you some manners?"  
  
Speed drew in a quick breath. "Who are you really? You aren't my brother…he would never talk like this…"  
  
"Like what? Like a man who developed some new ideas about the world?"  
  
"Rex loved the world! And he was religious, as a matter of fact; he always believed in…"  
  
"In what?" the voice interrupted him. "In the decency of all people? In the value of human life?"  
  
"Yes." Speed whispered. "He believed in all of that, and I don't believe that he would change."  
  
"Well, he did, little brother. You obviously have a lot to learn about growing up. And don't hold on to the things you think you remember about me; I'm a different person. You don't know me at all."  
  
"Where are Pops, and Spritle, and Racer X?" Speed demanded, his courage returning to him. Rex may have changed, and if he had, then Speed had been clinging to a dream for eleven years. And the knowledge that his older brother may have morphed in to one of the hateful men that Speed always seemed to cross paths with made him angrier than he had ever been before in his life. "If you hurt any of them, I will…"  
  
"Don't give yourself another panic attack, little brother. They're fine, in fact, they've never been better."  
  
Speed opened his mouth to say something, but closed it when he realized that Rex knew about his panic attack.   
  
"How did you know about that?" he stammered.   
  
"I was there. I've never seen you look so pathetic. It was sad really; here you are, twenty-one years old, almost a man, and you still can't control your emotions. You're going to get someone killed that way someday, little brother."  
  
"Stop calling me little brother!" Speed yelled in to the phone. "You aren't my brother; my brother believed in me, and he knew that there was no shame in asking for help. He even told me that all the time, before he left, when I was little. You aren't my brother!"  
  
"I am your brother, little brother. And I did leave. I left all of you, and I would do it again, and again, and again if I could. You've been clinging to a memory all these years haven't you? Holding on for dear life, believing in your heart that one day I would return and everything would just be the way it was before?"  
  
"Yes! I believed that…we are a family, no matter how old we get or how long you are away. And there is something wrong with you; I don't believe that you could have changed this much. I just don't believe it!"  
  
"Well, clearly telephone conversation isn't enough to convince you. Which, in a way, I'm happy for. Your curiosity will prevent you from avoiding meeting me face to face, even though you know you should."  
  
"Meeting you? What are you talking about?"  
  
"Number 5 Panama Gorge Street, five o'clock this evening. It's a small building, out in the middle of nowhere. But looks can be deceiving; there are all kinds of things for you to see there. My face is only one of them." And then, Speed heard a click on the other line, followed by a dial tone.

* * *

Rex's eyelids flew open, and he violently tried to pull himself up to standing, but discovered that he was once again tied and handcuffed down, except this time, he was lying on his back on a cold metal table. He didn't remember how he had gotten here, but his mind was filled with the memories of what he had done before. It was as if he had dreamed it all, and yet he knew it wasn't a dream. Every cruel, heartless thing that he had said, and every violent action that he had taken, he had done. And he had not even tried to prevent it.  
  
He wanted to die. Normally, he would never dream of wishing for such a thing, as he believed (for multiple reasons) that wishing for one's own death was wrong, and that every human life was worth saving. But he was just so horrified with what he had done, what he had been forced to do, that he never wanted to see his own face again. And more importantly, he never wanted anyone to take advantage of him like that again.  
  
His mind was a whirlwind of questions. He didn't exactly know what had driven him to act as he did; it was as if he had gone to sleep, woken up a completely different person, and then went back to sleep, and woke up to be himself again. The last thing he remembered from before was being given some kind of shot in the neck, which caused drowsiness, and eventually, loss of consciousness.  
  
What are the drugs capable of that? he furiously thought in his mind. He had studied different types of drugs with Interpol; there were drugs for sleep induction, drugs for mind alteration…but he couldn't think of any that induced total mind control. His mind, and his body, had been overthrown, and by what? And was he so useless that he could not fight them at all, even when he knew in his heart that he could possibly be used to kill his own family?  
  
"How could I say such things…" he whispered out loud, tears coming to his eyes. Rex was not a man who cried very easily, but everything that had come out of his mouth just repeated over and over in his head, as though it were a broken record that he must listen to for the rest of his life. He had spoken of life being meaningless. And he had tortured his brother, telling him that he should be ashamed of who he was, that he had not grown up properly or responsibly, when nothing could be further from the truth. Rex was overwhelmingly proud of who Speed had become, and he wondered if he would ever be able to tell Speed that.  
  
"I don't know…how could you say such things, Mr. Racer? You know that you don't mean them, so how could you say them?"  
  
"What have you done?" Rex yelled out. He knew better than to lose his temper, as doing so would only serve to reinforce his adversary's idea that he was winning and Rex was losing, but he couldn't help it. Rex was, after all, still just a man, and was not even thirty years old yet.  
  
"It is too complicated for you to understand, Mr. Racer. You have no knowledge of things of this nature, and so I suggest that you do not even try gain knowledge."  
  
Rex could make out the outline of Professor Anarchy's face, and he could see that Anarchy was enjoying himself. In addition to that, he was holding in his hands a small, mechanical looking chip which was no bigger than a quarter. Rex could only assume that it was some kind of computer chip.   
  
He was fighting a losing battle, and they both knew it. And Rex didn't say anything in reply, mainly because there wasn't anything for him to say. Anarchy was right; Rex knew about certain kinds of drugs, but he didn't know anything about computer technology. He felt himself beginning to give in; his bonds were tight, his mind was overloaded with despair and worry, and his head still hurt, which he began to figure was due to a concussion. His eyes closed to prevent tears from falling as he felt a familiar needle prick, and then darkness overtook him once more.

* * *

The drive had been silent. Trixie and Sparky had decided to go to the building that Rex had mentioned, even though Speed didn't want them to. But they had insisted, saying that Speed had been the one who had demanded that they all stay together, which was something that Speed couldn't argue with. Sparky was driving, and Speed sat there, just holding Trixie's hand. It felt like the longest drive of his life.  
  
Rex hadn't been kidding; number 5 Panama Gorge Street was in the middle of nowhere. And it didn't look like much, just a shack that looked as though it may fall at any moment. The walls were merely boards, and the roof was two sheets of aluminum leaning against one another. The three of them stepped out of the car slowly, all scanning the landscape, looking for someone…specifically, for Rex.  
  
And he arrived right on time. Sparky's digital watch beeped five times, and Rex stepped out of the shack. He was dressed in black slacks, a black button down shirt, and a black jacket. Speed recognized him immediately, even though he never remembered Rex wearing black, except on the one occasion when he and Speed had gone to their grandfather's funeral.  
  
"Stay here." he said quietly to his friends. Both looked as though they wanted to protest, but ultimately they didn't. They remained still as Speed walked over to where his older brother was waiting for him.  
  
"Hello, little brother. Long time no see." Rex said with a smile.  
  
"I didn't want to believe that it was you."  
  
"Well, it is. People change, Speed; you should know that by now."  
  
"Clearly they do." Speed was afraid, but he felt something inside of him that he never dreamt he would feel towards Rex: rage. Rage at him for leaving in the first place, for abandoning his family, and then later abandoning his principles. Rage at him for betraying all the trust that Speed had kept for him throughout the long years.  
  
"Where is my family, Rex?" Speed said in a low voice.   
  
"I think you mean our family, little brother."  
  
"They aren't your family anymore…you lost that privilege eleven years ago. Where are they?"  
  
Rex actually looked momentarily stunned, as if a glimmer of his old self returned. His crooked smile faded, but then returned seconds later.   
  
"They're inside."  
  
"And what about Racer X? I assume he is in there too?"  
  
And then Rex laughed out loud, making Speed's eyebrows furrow. "Why is that funny?" he growled.  
  
"Poor stupid child. You don't know, do you?"  
  
"Know what?"  
  
"Racer X? X? Rex? Come on, was it really that hard to figure out? Obviously it was, since you have known me for three years and still don't know."  
  
Speed's confidence was now shot. Racer X, Rex, and this shadow of a man who had once been his brother; all were the same person? But Racer X was one of the most honorable men Speed had ever met, and he had looked up to him as a mentor, and as a friend. And Racer X had saved his life more than once throughout the years, but for what? Merely to come to this day and kill him now?  
  
Rex looked over Speed's shoulder, and saw Sparky and Trixie standing in the background. "You all don't go anywhere alone, do you? You should learn independence Speed; how irresponsible of you to put your friends in danger."  
  
But when Speed turned around to look back for his friends, there was no one there. He hadn't even heard anything; not a scream, not a cry, nothing. That had just disappeared. And he turned back to look at Rex, who just smiled down at him, then grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him in to the shack.

* * *

Ooh…Rex is evil! Isn't it great? Evil is so much fun to write.  
  
Review! What is up with all the other writers getting all the reviews? Huh? Come on punk, I know you're out there!  
  
Psycho Jill is going to lay down now… 


	5. We Meet Again

Hola, mis amigos! How's it going? 

Now that Thanksgiving is over, and the semester is winding down, I don't have much to do these days. So, I decided to pick up this little piece of work again. Thank you in advance to everyone who reviews.

Disclaimer: Does anyone really read these? Didn't think so. But, you know the drill.

The temperature alone was enough for Speed to know that this was more than just a shack in the middle of nowhere. His skin crawled and his breathing became erratic, a response to the extreme cold he had now been pulled into. And he was surprised to find that the shack was not inhabited by the rats, insects, and serpents that he had been expecting; instead, it was pitch black, and while he could not see it, he could feel the slickness of the metal floor beneath his feet.

Rex still gripped his shirt, and once he had pulled the door closed behind the two of them, he grabbed a handful of Speed's hair. Speed struggled, but to no avail; Rex seemed to be possessed by something that made him inhumanly strong. After a while, it seemed like the more he fought, the stronger Rex became...and the more he appeared to enjoy himself. He began laughing beneath his breath, as if he knew that Speed was fighting a losing battle against something much larger than he believed.

"Just like old times, huh little brother? I remember we used to wrestle like this!" He said with a laugh, still gripping Speed's shirt and beginning to throw him around the room by the hair.

Every time he called Speed "little brother" was torture. Every time he said it, Speed remembered times in his childhood, and lucidly envisioned his older brother and he had last seen him. He could remember absolutely everything: Rex was always tall and strong, with dark black eyes and a mischievous, boy-like smile on his face. And the two of them had always wrestled, but it had just been a simple game between brothers. And every time, Speed would think he was losing, but then Rex would always eventually let him win. The games would always end with laughter, and a secret hug when no one else was looking.

Speed let out a small cry when Rex violently threw him into one of the nearby walls, which were also made out of metal. His eyes had adjusted to the light now, and he could just barely make out Rex's form, which loomed over him, then grabbed his hair and threw him into another one of the walls. The second time had been much harder, and Speed slumped to the ground as his head began to spin and his hair began to feel wet. He was nearly incoherent at that point and did not realize that the dampness on his skull was blood seeping from a small wound in his skull.

When Rex saw that Speed was not going to get up, he decided that he had enough of this, grabbed Speed, once again by the hair, and dragged him over to the fourth wall. He said something in a foreign language that Speed did not understand, and then a door that had been part of the wall a moment before now opened. Dragging Speed, he walked into the room on the opposite side, the door sliding shut behind them.

"Ow!"

"Sorry...I can't see very well in here"  
"You know what, just stop. It's not going to make a difference anyway."

Trixie sighed and put down the piece of cloth she had been using to dress a cut over Sparky's right eye. She didn't want to admit it, but it wasn't the lack of light that was causing her hands to be unsteady. Both of them were exhausted, fearful, and felt helpless.

Neither one of them knew exactly what had happened in the past hour or so. Everything had been a blur; they arrived at the shack, and sure enough, Rex had been waiting for them, looking eerily casual. Then, before they could see what happened to Speed, the two of them fell through holes that appeared beneath their feet. They fell into what could only be described as an enormous metal room that was colder than a freezer, landing heavily on a hard, metal floor. They were then were immediately pushed over to a dark cell. Trixie wasn't treated too roughly by the shaded figures around them, but Sparky had been ridiculed, jeered at, and beaten as he walked. He was actually lucky that he only had a laceration over his eye. And now, they waited, with no idea where Speed was or what was happening to him.

"Are you okay? I mean, apart from that. Is anything broken or anything?" Trixie asked after a moment of silence.

"I'm fine...are you?" Sparky said, dabbing at his cut with a part of his T-shirt.

"Yes..." her voice trailed off. "No." She then said, rubbing her temples and closing her eyes. "I'm just in shock, that's all."

"We've had a busy little afternoon here, haven't we?" Sparky said, making a weak attempt at humor.

Trixie chuckled, barely smiling at all. "Leave it to you to make jokes at a time like this."

Sparky smiled, then stopping cleaning his cut and lowered his eyes to the ground. The two were silent for a while, but they were thinking the exact same thing.

"I didn't even remember what he looked like." Sparky said softly. "It's been so long."

"I know...but it's strange, I didn't think I remembered him at all, but once I saw him, I knew it was him. I recognized everything."

"Me too. Although I remembered him being a little skinnier."

"Yeah. Believe it or not, he reminds me a little bit of a younger Pops."

"If Pops were..." Sparky's voice trailed off. Trixie knew what he was going to say, but she really didn't want to hear it.

Once again, there was a prolonged period of silence.

"I wish I knew if Speed was alright." Trixie said with a quiet sigh.

"I wish I knew just what exactly was going on." Sparky responded. "After twelve years of nothing, no communication whatsoever, Rex just suddenly comes back, and appears to be working for a gang of incredibly not nice people."

"It doesn't make sense, Spark. It just doesn't...he saved Speed and I from these people three years ago...why would he suddenly switch sides? And why would he surface now? None of it makes any sense at all..."

"He looked different too. Granted, I didn't get that close to him, and yes, he is quite a bit older, but still...it's like he morphed into another person. His face, he was sneering, and it was so obvious that he knew exactly what was going to happen. I don't think I've ever seen anyone look that, well, brash."

"Rex was a little cocky, but you're right; he was nothing like he is now."

Trixie hugged her knees into her chest and shuddered against the cold. "I also wish that these people would turn up the thermostat just a little."

"I'd give you my jacket, but I seem to have forgotten it. I didn't think I would need it." Sparky said with a little smile.

Trixie smiled back at him. "What a gentleman. But thank you sir; I think I'll live."

"Is that what you think?" a third voice suddenly said. "I regret then, to inform you, that you are quite incorrect."

Trixie and Sparky slowly turned to face the supplier of this voice. Sparky had no idea who he was, but Trixie recognized him as if the events of three years past had taken place the day before. For this man she had seen close up: it was the blonde man who had worn the brown suit. Except now, he wore all black, just like Rex had been wearing. His face had not changed at all: he still had the same smug expression, with the same leer in his eyes that had made Trixie very uncomfortable every time he looked at her.

"Hello to the both of you. You," he said, pointing at Sparky, "I haven't met yet. But you," he said, now pointing to Trixie, "I could never forget."

Trixie started to say something, but Sparky abruptly stood up, cutting her off. "Who are you?" he demanded.  
"Who are you?" the man responded with a chuckle. "Oh wait, you don't need to answer that. I already know everything about you. Simon Parker, affectionately called Sparky, was born on July 8, 1983, in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. He moved to California at age three, and eventually moved to Tokyo, Japan at age eight. His parents are Sharon and Michael Parker, who currently live in Osaka, Japan, with his two brothers, twins, who are both 15 right now and enrolled in high school in Japan. He attended the University of Tokyo briefly before dropping out to be a full time auto mechanic, and lives by himself in an apartment, apartment 509 to be exact, in the working class neighborhood of southwestern Tokyo, on Juno Street. I have more, would you like me to go on?"

Sparky was dumbfounded. This man had been honest when he said he knew everything about him, from where he had been born to his siblings and parents to his current address. It confounded him to think of how anyone would be able to gather that much information on him, but the thing that really worried him was why anyone would want that information. Especially considering that he had never even seen this man before.

While Sparky stood in silence, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly agape, Trixie stood up, her courage restored. "What do you want with us?" she spat out, her voice dripping with a venomous tone.

The man looked at her and smiled. "You are Beatrice Anne McCloughlan. You were born on January 11, 1984 in New York City, and lived there until age seven, at which time, you moved with your father to Japan so that he could go to a research hospital for treatment of his...unfortunate disease. He died about two years ago; your mother died giving birth to you. You remained in Japan to complete high school, graduating at the top of your class and boasting a very impressive grade point average, and later you attended university in Tokyo, where you again earned very high marks in all of your courses, particularly those dedicated to math and computer science."

"What do you want with us?" she repeated with a yell, still retaining the fiery look in her eyes. She refused to let him see the fear behind her eyes.

"And what have you done with the others?" Sparky yelled immediately after.

The man let out a loud laugh, as if this was all some kind of game to him. "Young people these days, always asking questions. You never offer solutions, you just demand them of others." He said.

"What the hell is going on?" Trixie growled.

"Well, if you really want to know that badly..." the man's voice trailed away. About ten assassins, still wearing their same uniforms from three years ago, stepped up, standing on both sides of him. Each had a very large machine gun in their arms.

"Come with me. It won't be long now." And with that, he turned, and the assassins rushed to surround Sparky and Trixie. The man began to walk, and Trixie and Sparky were pushed along, following him.

He led them along a very long metallic corridor. The only lighting in the entire hall was provided by track lighting nailed down to the floor. Once again, the temperature was unbearably cold, so cold that ice crystals were forming on all sides of the hall, which made the floor very slippery. At one point Sparky did slip, and would have fallen had Trixie not instantly grabbed onto his arm and pulled him back up to standing. The assassins laughed and ridiculed him, but Trixie's eyes were all he needed to see in order to remain strong. It was as if they could speak to him...don't give up, don't leave me here alone, we'll get through this together, just stay strong. Stay strong, and fight them.

At last the walk ended. The man entered a combination into a keypad that rested in the middle of the wall, and a hidden door then slid upwards, revealing an enormous warehouse, very much akin to the warehouse that Trixie remembered from before. The warehouse where she, along with Speed and nine or ten others, had been tied to poles, with Anarchy intending to have them all executed firing squad style. But Rex had saved them, and they had all managed to escape.

Several pairs of eyes were fixed on them from the moment the warehouse door was opened. There were assassins everywhere; some were talking amongst themselves, but most weren't saying anything, and everything went silent as Trixie and Sparky were brought into the room. They had been waiting for this moment for a very long time; the powers for which they worked had told them who they were after, but had failed to mention why. And they had obeyed, just as they had been training to do, in the hopes that this moment, the moment occurring right then and there, would eventually come.

"Sparky! Trixie!" a voice called out from across the room. The two were relieved, in a way, to see Spritle running across the room, for he was alright at the moment, but it was also disheartening. Everyone was completely under Anarchy's control.

Trixie bent down and embraced Spritle in a tight hug. She could feel him shaking with silent tears. She wanted to say something to comfort him, but couldn't think of anything. She wasn't exactly calm herself, either.

"Are you two alright?" Pops voice, which was cracking and sounded much softer than usual, said. Sparky immediately walked over to him and pulled him into a hug. As the two separated, Sparky sharply drew in a breath of air when he saw Pops' face, which was bruised, swollen, and bleeding in several places. In fact, Pops' entire body was injured, but he refused to let Sparky or Trixie see any of it.

"Yes, we're..." Sparky started to say. Then his voice faded away, and his eyes widened. Everyone followed his eyes over to the farthest wall, where two men stood, and another appeared to be lying on the ground, unconscious. Ironically, Trixie recognized him better when he was far away than when he was up close. Her mind immediately turned in to a whirlwind of memories: she remembered him standing far away from her, laughing and sneering at his triumph. The clearest thing that she recalled was the shape of his body. It had been more angular than anything she had ever seen; Anarchy was a relatively tall man, taller than Speed but not as tall as Pops or Racer X, and his body was thin and lanky. It looked even more odd when he stood next to Racer X...Rex...just as he had done three years prior. Rex was extremely tall and powerfully built, so Anarchy appeared as a dry, leafless tree would in the dead of winter. His eye patch was different, his hair was different, and the look on his face was also different (surprisingly), but the overall shape of him was unmistakable.

When he saw that everyone's gaze was fixed upon him, he linked his hands behind his back and began to walk towards them. The room was so silent that there were no sounds other than the clicking of his shoes upon the floor. He walked slowly, agonizingly slowly, yet held everyone's attention for the entire time, and didn't speak until he was only feet away from everyone. Rex didn't move; he remained standing over Speed's limp body, his face blank.

"Welcome. Welcome, all of you. Some of you I have seen before," he said, glancing at Trixie, "and some of you, I have only seen on a computer monitor. But rest assured, I know who all of you are."

"But do you know who I am?" he said, after a bit of a pause. He began to pace in a circle around them. "At this point, you most likely have at least heard of me. But, in the interest of formality, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Professor Anarchy...actually, truth be told that isn't my given birth name, but it is the name I adopted for myself years ago. It is my code name, the only name that I answer to now, and it will be the name that people remember me by."

"And it will be the name you will think of when you draw your last breaths..." the man in the brown suit said, his voice dripping with maliciousness.

"Silence." Anarchy snarled at him. This was actually the first time that any of them had heard him raise his voice. The other man took the hint immediately, and shrank back to hide among the thousands of assassins that stood in a giant circle around the room.

"I used to be one of the most powerful men in the world. I had a small army at my beck and call, I had spies and servants in nearly every country, and I had access to more information and more weapons than you could possibly imagine. So naturally, because of all of this, I assumed the worst thing that I could have: I assumed that I, and that my organization, was invincible."

"But it did not take long for that illusion to be destroyed. Nor did its destruction require quite the force that I thought such a razing would have required. I had naturally assumed that might would have to meet might, and that I could only be defeated by another army. However, history would determine that only one man would be clever, and cunning, enough to instigate the fall of my organization. That man is your son, your friend, and your brother."

"And there he stands." He motioned over to Rex, who immediately left Speed's side and walked over to all of them. His face was cold and distant, and completely devoid of any expression. He didn't even make eye contact with any of them; he simply stared straight ahead.

"Does this pain you, Mr. Racer? To see your son like this? I imagine this wasn't the circumstance under which you had hoped you would see him again."

Pops was not the kind of man who cried easily; in fact, he couldn't remember the last time anything or anyone had ever brought a lump into his throat, let alone tears into his eyes. Now, he lowered his eyes to the ground in an attempt to hide the emotion. For it had been so long since he had seen his eldest son...so long, in fact, that he had forgotten the intricacies of Rex's face. There had been times when, at home, he tried to picture Rex's face for no particular reason, but found that he could not get a clear image. Instead, what he got was a blur, a projection of chestnut hair and dark brown, almost black eyes, set in fair skin. But as for the minor curves, the line of his jaw, the exact texture of his hair, and all the lines that appeared when he smiled...those had all been lost. And now that Rex stood before him as a grown man, Pops could not contain himself.

"I see it does pain you. Greatly, I might add."

At this point, Sparky was the only one who was cohesive. He knew Anarchy only through stories, so he was not as afraid as the others, and he had never been close to Rex, so his appearance before the ground did not rattle him to quite the extent that it rattled Pops. Spritle was just so confused and fearful that he didn't know what to do. Sparky felt that this had all gone far enough.

"Tell us why you are doing all of this, Anarchy. Just tell us why we have been brought here." He said, making his voice sound as steady and confident as he could.

Anarchy looked over at him, and Sparky was surprised to see that his expression was not nearly as evil as he had pictured it would be. In fact, under different circumstances, Sparky would have just seen him as a typical older gentleman; thin and bony, yet regal. His face was more regal than vindictive; his body language more calm than threatening. Sparky reasoned that this must have been the reason why Trixie had been fooled into believing that this man wasn't Anarchy.

"You have a strong heart, Mr. Parker. Stronger than I ever gave you credit for. I can see your spirit in your eyes...well done. Well done."

Sparky was slightly taken aback, but he refused to allow himself to be fooled.

"Stop talking in riddles, whoever you are. Just give us some answers." He growled.

Anarchy smiled and laughed under his breath. "Alright, my dear boy...clearly you want to dispense with the pleasantries. This isn't how I would conduct things, but then again, I do come from a different generation. I'll humor you."

Anarchy opened his mouth to speak, but closed it and turned as he, and the others, heard a groaning noise behind them. It was Speed, who was clutching his head and trying to push himself up off of the floor. Trixie and Spritle both broke out of the trance they had previously been in and rushed over to his side. He looked at them with blurry eyes; he couldn't really see them, but could make out their general image. He stumbled once, and then with their help, got up onto his feet.

"Welcome back, Mr. Racer. I wouldn't touch your head very much tonight; you've got a nasty injury. Nothing that won't heal with time, though." Anarchy said.

"What have you done to him?" Trixie cried. "Why did you do this?"

"I didn't." Anarchy replied. "Rex did."

Long, yes. Boring, hopefully not. ;) I was going to put in more, but I did a check on the word count, and this chapter is already a bit too long.


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